


Break Like I Do

by ashisfriendly



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some one prompted in <a href="http://parksandreckink.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://parksandreckink.livejournal.com/"></a><b>parksandreckink</b>: <i>What does Ben do when he leaves Harvest Fest for a while? Self hating masturbation. I don't have a preference if you end it up-beat and cheerful or super angsty. Or if you keep it consistent with canon vs making it stray and B+L get together. Or whatever! That's all in your hands!</i> Here is the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break Like I Do

Ben sits in his dark motel room. His skin feels itchy and hot. He’s been sweating since he left the Festival grounds and his clothes have felt confining ever since he stepped into his room. Ben begins to unbutton his shirt but it takes too long so he rips it off, his heart racing and his breaths ragged.

He is such a fuck up. He is an idiot. He let himself get swept up in the magic and bliss that is Leslie Knope. She literally glows when he sees her, the sun having no comparison to her shine. She always looked at him with bright blue eyes, optimistic and hopeful. She never doubted anything, not herself, her department, her coworkers, not even him. Leslie always kept him in her back pocket of positivity – letting him be a part of the rebuilding of the Pawnee government and become her partner in the formation of the Harvest Festival.

Leslie was the hopeful budget proposal and he was the constant block in funds, the depleted resources. He strived to be with her, attach him to her like a parasite that needs her to survive, to grow, to exist. But he can’t, he has to get away from her. He needs to stop dragging her down to his level, ruining her department, fucking up the press junket for Harvest Festival, and now causing the Festival’s demise before it even got to breathe.

He is no stranger to damaging things in his wake. Of course there was the third grade geography bee that he choked during the final round, mistaking Ohio’s capital with Wyoming’s. Then his stupid attempt at actually being the mayor of Partridge when he was 18, running the town into the ground, crept into his head every now and then. He didn’t get into Columbia like he wanted and took second best at IU which led him to be a successful state auditor, but that led to here: Pawnee, Indiana ruining the most amazing, beautiful, and inspirational woman’s spirit one big failure at a time.

Leslie didn’t know no-nonsense Ben. She may have thought she met him and dealt with him for a few weeks, but she soon twisted his arm in many ways, and he started to see that there was more to a town than it’s numbers. She didn’t know that he helped Pawnee in a different way than all those other cities and towns of Indiana. Ben used to see only numbers on spreadsheets and a very clear priority outline with schools near the top and parks near the bottom. Pawnee changed that. Leslie changed that. He saw numbers still, of course, but he also saw people behind desks, families lounging on the grass, fathers barbecuing, children playing basketball… all that crap that usually ended up by the wayside. Not in Pawnee, not with Leslie Knope.

Ben’s chest feels heavy, causing him to pull his undershirt over his head. She holds his heart in her hands, just like he once held her job. When she smiles, he feels her squeeze, and when she pitches great ideas like festivals to save her entire department, she crushes it in a vice. He runs his hands through his hair as he thinks about her, the blood rushing out of his scalp. Her eyes are looking into his as she talks about ways to fix the budget. Her skin is showing because she wore a deep-necked shirt, and he can smell her perfume: Sugary, flowery, with a hint of vanilla. He can feel her hair on his cheek, like when she laughed and brushed into him one day over lunch.

He groans, echoing off the walls of his motel room as he feels his pants tighten. Of course, he’s hard. It always happens when he thinks of her. This isn’t the first time she has flooded his mind in the darkness of his room, alone on his bed. He grabs his belt and pushes his pants down with his boxers, immediately releasing the pressure against his cock. He sighs, smoothing his hand from his balls to the tip of his dick. He sighs again, shivering at his own touch, angry that his hands weren’t as soft or small as hers. He’s never been so pathetic.

He is angry, disappointed, hurt, and humiliated. How he always felt when he left work, left her, and came back to this void of a home. He was alone in this stupid empty motel room, without her. It made him sick that he could never have her; even the thought is preposterous. She is so positive, beautiful, hopeful, and above him in every way some one could be. She is everything but worthless, and he is everything but worthy of her.

The muscles in his hand were burning, gripping his cock tight – too tight, but if he was going to picture her he shouldn’t be enjoying it. She didn’t deserve to be in his fantasies. Leslie’s body was shaped like a small hourglass, her mind open and wonderful. Ben bit his lip at the image of her, smooth, small, sexy. His hand tightened around his dick as he pumped, smelling her, imaging her, feeling her. The woman that was completely out of his league, everything about her was flawless and he was the embodiment of imperfection.

She had crept into his mind on many lonely nights at the Pawnee Super Suites but this time he really knew that he was doing something wrong. Fantasies were innocent until you got too close, felt too much. And fuck, he felt so much. He winced as his thumbnail dragged against the sensitive flesh of his cock, needing to punish himself for feeling this way.

Ben lets out a struggled moan, in between pleasure and hurt as he climbs. He feels the familiar stretch in his thighs, the numbness in his toes. Faster, faster, harder… rougher.

He hears a knock at the door, causing him to jump to his feet. His heart is racing and his whole body is covered in sweat, and stupid Chris is at his door again. Chris comes to his room almost nightly to talk about how great of a job he did and to recommend some kind of herbal supplement to get Ben’s stress levels down.

Another knock, louder this time. He slips on his boxers because god knows Chris has seen him looking much worse. He wipes his face with his discarded t-shirt and adjusts himself before opening the door just enough for his face to poke through.

Leslie Knope, in all her fucking glory is standing on the other side of the door. She is no less beautiful, but she looks tired, frustrated, and surprised he actually answered. He fucking wished he hadn’t.

“Hi.” She starts, not a usual greeting for her, but he figures she’s not in the mood to be here, to go out of her way one more time.

His cheeks immediately rouge and he hopes she can’t see that he’s been sweating… let alone masturbating. He was struggling between continuing to talk to her through the crack in the doorway to not be rude and slamming the door in her face. He glances down quickly, checking to make sure she can’t see anything but his face.

“Hey.” He chokes.

Leslie stands there, obviously uncomfortable with the barrier. But what could he do? He can’t let her in, he was only in his boxers with a full erection and his room probably smelt like sweat and… well, that horrible, humiliating masturbation smell.

“Look, this is ridiculous. You are not cursed, no one is cursed, there is no curse.” She begins, her voice is tired but her face is strong and sure. He wants to yell at her to stop caring about him, stop looking at him, don’t laugh in front of him, don’t love this insane town so he can get over her, forget about her and leave. “Curses are stupid. Just… come back, this is our project.”

His heart starts pumping faster when she says “our” with such a soft voice and she is driving him wild once again. There’s a long pause between them before she speaks again.

“Can I come in?”

“No.” He says quickly, startling both of them.

Her head falls forward as she sighs, disappointed. She mumbles an “okay” and turns to walk away. After a step, he speaks up.

“Leslie.” She turns around and looks at him. “You-you can come in. Just… hold on.” He shuts the door awkwardly and runs to find his basketball shorts. He finds them rumpled under his pillow and slips them on. He swipes his plaid and slides it over his shoulders, pulling his arms through as he opens the door. He’s glad she’s still there. She looks annoyed and confused, but she’s there.

She walks in and her familiar scent of shampoo floods him once again and his knees feel like Jell-O. She takes a moment and surveys his room, her steps are small, her eyes big. She flicks off her heels after a few moments and smoothes a spot on the bed and sits. She looks at him, and he notices she takes a second glance at his ridiculous outfit.

“Ben, you-“

“Leslie, no. I just.” He pauses and pushes his hands through his hair, suddenly not caring about his obvious erection. “Just, don’t tell me you want me here. Please tell me to leave.”

“Ben, I don’t want you to leave.”

He groans, his hands falling to his sides. “You drive me crazy when you say things like that. When you text me at one in the morning. When you tap your pen and bite your lip when concentrating on the quarterly evaluations. Every time you bring me a black coffee because you have always remembered I hate cream and sugar which you…”

“Don’t understand.” She shakes her head, and he continues.

“Right.” He takes a breath. “When you pitch insane festivals to save your friends and department. Whenever I walk into the Parks department I stop breathing. When you fucking smile at me, Leslie. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, and your ambition is both frightening and exhilarating. I love… being here in this town, working in City Hall, and I take the long way back to the motel so I can drive by Ramset Park because of you. That’s not who I am, Leslie. I am supposed to be objective, come in here and fix the budget and leave. But I care too much; because of you I can’t do my job. You have shown me that my job fucking sucks, because all I want to do is help you. That’s all I want, as if you have some spell over me.” Ben clears his throat and takes a step towards her. “I am a disaster. Please let me go.” He’s begging her at this point, pleading to not live with the impossibility of touching her anymore. She hasn’t really moved since he started his tirade, and Ben was starting to feel dizzy, not to mention that she was beginning to look fuzzy. Has he eaten today?

Leslie stands up, and they are ridiculously close, their fingers touch and he holds his breath. He wonders if she can hear his heartbeat.

“Ben, you deserve –“

“Don’t.” He stops her, charged.

“No, Ben, listen to me.” She stomps her foot because she’s angry and that alone is not helping him at the moment because it’s so cute. “You aren’t a disaster, and so what you failed at being an 18 year old mayor, and who cares that you can’t talk to cops, and you suck at interviews, you aren’t such a bad guy. You’re a great guy, a wonderful guy. You aren’t this terrible cursed person who has nothing to offer the world, or a woman. Think about what you’ve done for Pawnee!” She takes a long breath, and he can see her shake as she smoothes her hands down her sides. “For me.” Her voice is soft, desperate.

They stand there in silence for minutes. Ben can’t figure out what to say next because he’s already said everything, and he doesn’t want to move because she’s so close and it’s wonderful. Leslie’s eyes dance around his face, her expression unreadable.

Then, all at once things change.

Leslie grabs his hands and tiptoes up to reach his mouth. Her kiss is cautious at first but as soon as Ben sighs into her, she takes a step closer, their bodies touching from head to toe. Ben feels dizzy, but Leslie’s arms around his middle keep him grounded. She is soft and tastes sweet, like she ate a funnel cake on the way here… which she probably did. Her hands on his back are soft and they move slightly as she engulfs him. His hands find a spot tangled in her hair on the back of her neck and it feels as if his hands weren’t made to fix budgets or punch on a calculator, but to feel her golden strands against them.

Leslie pulls away from him and smiles, resting her forehead against the bridge of his nose.

“So it wasn’t just me.” She sighs.

Ben’s voice is lost as he shakes his head. This couldn’t be happening. His voice finds him again, low and shaky. “It’s not just you.” And then he kisses her, hard. He took her previous initiation as permission to get through to her, explore her, have her. She follows his lead with out a hitch.

Her fingernails are raking against his chest while he fumbles with her shirt, keeping one hand anchored in her hair. Ben can’t focus and he knows that the way his tongue moves is sloppy and he scratches her on accident when his hands creep up her shirt. He needs to stop. He needs to tell her that he doesn’t deserve her, that he isn’t worthy of her smooth skin and her sweet lips. Remind her that he is a fucking coward and her smile should be reserved for a better man. A better man than Ben Wyatt, failed teen mayor turned boring budget slasher and dream killer. But he fucking can’t, because he wants her so badly and the way she nips at his bottom lip makes his stomach drop. He wants this woman so much, the one who knew his true character months ago, Ben the Jerk who isn’t worthy of Leslie Knope.

Leslie grabs Ben’s shirt and pulls, both of their bodies falling onto the mattress, bumping together awkwardly, but she feels so good. She giggles against his lips, teeth bumping against tongues. Her amazing ability to be confident and relaxed with him leads his erection against Leslie’s hips and he moans into her mouth, causing her to push his shirt off his shoulders and discard it across the room. Leslie’s hands push against his back, along his sides, his chest. Her touch is electrifying, each part of his body that she touches buzzes.

Ben fumbles with Leslie’s shirt, desperate to feel her skin against his. Her back is in the way and he’s trying to support his weight above her and it’s just not working. He groans, frustrated, against her mouth. She laughs and separates from him.

“Having an issue?”

Ben hits his head against her shoulder in defeat, feeling like a fool to think he could keep up with her. Leslie laughs again.

“Here,” Leslie says kindly as she pushes him off of her and sits up while removing her shirt; she looks down at her bra and blushes.

Polka dots. Goddamn polka dots. He wants to scream that he loves her, groan into her hair that he wants to marry her. But he isn’t that much of a disaster. Just in case he looses all sense of control and professes his love to her in this otherwise perfect moment, he kisses her, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. It hits the floor and he groans, trailing sloppy kisses down her neck and towards her chest. Her hands dig into his hair, his name slipping out of her mouth in a husky whisper. His fingers dig into her hips, holding her in place, and keeping him close.

Ben has never felt more alive, more into a human being before. She is more than intoxicating, he feels engulfed in her. It’s both overwhelming and not enough. She’s hard to resist, but impossible not to touch. He wants to back down, tell her this isn’t right, because this could get her fired. She should be with some one that is better for her, someone who wont ruin everything she’s worked for, someone who is full and carefree and as positive as she is. Fuck the curse, because he will cost her everything she loves, namely her job. He gets mad thinking about how he’s damaging something again for her, how he is fucking this up. He groans angrily and pushes himself off of her, standing at the foot of the bed, raking a hand through his hair, trying hard to bring the blood back to his brain.

“Ben, I’m sorry, I thought-“

“No, no, no.” He starts to pace the room. “Leslie it’s me, I am, I want… I want this. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I want this. I just… fuck, sorry. I’m a mess.” He stops in front of her, she props herself up on her elbows, looking at him confused. “Leslie, don’t let me ruin your career, the Harvest Fest, whatever you may do in the future.”

Leslie pushes herself up and sits on her knees in front of him, their bodies almost touching, scaring Ben. He can’t keep himself away if she doesn’t leave.

She reaches out to him, and his breath hitches in his throat. Her hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck, where her hands rest, her nails tickling the nape. He shivers under her.

“You aren’t ruining anything.” She kisses his jaw. “I am a grown woman, I make my own choices. You have helped me so much, Ben.” Her words are tickling his skin as she hovers above his chest, around his collarbone and neck. He grips his shorts. “I’ve been going crazy, too.” He closes his eyes as her mouth travels down his stomach, trailing kisses on his skin. He can feel her hair glide against him. “You make things possible, Ben.” Her fingers play with the waistband of his shorts, and he finally breaks and places his hands delicately in her hair. “You saved Pawnee, you saved my job, you helped us build something. You, Ben… you.”

She pushes against his hips gently and he backs up as she stands up in front of him. She kisses him, slow, purposeful, and beautiful. He follows her delicate lead and separates his lips when he feels her tongue gently trace them. They stand there for what feels like forever, slowly exploring each other. He keeps his hands in her hair, hers stay on the small of his back, her fingers only tracing the contours of his bones and muscles every now and then.

Leslie turns them slowly so Ben is backed against the foot of the bed and she softly pushes his shorts and boxers down, her nails following them down his thighs until the fabric pools at his feet. She pulls her body against him, their lips never parting, until he sits on the bed. She bends down to keep her mouth on him, her ass sticking out behind her, her breasts presented before him majestically. He cups a breast in his hand, gentle with his fingers. She slowly moves his hand away, smiling against his lips.

“I want to show you that I want you, this is about you, Ben. You’re amazing.” She says, planting kisses down his jaw to his stomach. He must be dreaming. She lowers herself to her knees in front of him, her lips kissing designs down his hips, his thighs. Her hands tease him, lightly grazing his shaft, letting her tongue linger on his sensitive, throbbing tip.

Ben is shaking and his dick is so hard it hurts. He wants to grab her and pull her to him, enter her, make love to her. But he grips the sheets to keep control of himself, to follow Leslie’s lead, to let her be… incredible, patient, kind, and everything he loves about her.

When he feels her breath against the tip of his dick, he whimpers her name. His head rolls back when she kisses the tip, and his groan echoes off the walls when she licks him from his balls to the tip.

“Leslie.” He pants.

“Ben, you’re so incredible.” Her fingers tickle the underside of his balls as she starts to slowly sucks him. She pulls away for a moment, her breath hot against him. “I’ve wanted this ever since you brought me JJ’s and soup when I was sick. When did you want me, Ben?” She pushes his dick all the way into her mouth, her tongue massaging the underside of his shaft, the tip grazing the back of her throat.

Ben shakes as he moans. “Leslie, I’ve wanted you… fuck.” She pulls back slowly, her hand pumping him with her mouth. “I’ve wanted you forever. I don’t know a time when I… ah… when I didn’t.” This causes her to pull him in and out of her mouth quickly, her hands working on his shaft and balls while she sucks. Her tongue lines each ridge and vein, her lips soaked in her saliva and his precum.

Ben looks down at her, she is incredible. Her eyes are closed as she works, and he moans as he watches his dick slide in and out of her mouth so effortlessly.

He rolls his head back, his eyes fluttering closed at her touch. He repeats her name between breaths as she pumps and licks. She pulls off of him and pumps him with her hand as she kisses his thighs.

“Your dick is perfect, Ben.” She says against his thigh. He shivers, gripping the sheets harder, his knuckles turning white. “You’re perfect.” She takes him in her mouth again, feeling wetter and hotter than before. His hips twitch and he absently thrusts towards her and she groans, the vibrations causing him to shake. She licks the underside of his cock and breaths against the delicate skin. “Touch me, Ben.”

So he does. A hand clamps to her hair, his fingers numb. Another hand grips her hand that she just propped against the bed as she sucks him hard, fast. He is losing it quickly, her mouth moving along him flawlessly, the feeling of her hair in his hand sending that familiar numbing, burning sensation up his legs and into his gut.

“Leslie.” His voice strains. “Leslie, you’re going to make me cum.” This elicits a groan against his dick as she pumps faster. He grips her hand tighter as his groans escape him uncontrollably. “Leslie, fuck.” His breaths quicken as her tongue flicks his tip with every pump. His stomach burns, and his legs shake and soon his body is tightening and he is shooting into her mouth, filling her.

He groans loudly, trying to control his breathing as she licks him clean, his body twitching with every swipe of her tongue. He softens in her mouth and she pulls away, reaching for a corner of a sheet to wipe her mouth on. Ben pulls her up to him and kisses her, the feeling of her legs against his sensitive cock making him shiver. Her lips are swollen, soft.

“Leslie.” He pulls away, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “Please… please…”

She kisses him softly while pushing her pants and panties down. She smiles against his lips as his hands roam her bare hips and ass.

“Please, Leslie, please…” He pleads in a whisper.

“Yes, Ben. I’ll stay. I’m here. I’m yours.”

Her blue eyes are locked on his pools of brown, and it’s in that moment that she convinces him. That she is immaculate and hopeful, and he is just a wiry dork from Minnesota who shares her interest in politics. That his cynicism can be evened out by her optimism. That all of the late night texting back and forth during a marathon of History Channel documentaries meant something to her just as it did to him. That because she wants him, feels great with him and can feel all the things for him that he feels about her is enough. That he is enough.

He kisses her eyelids with a sigh and her lips twitch into a small smile. They fall on the mattress, in a mess of legs, arms and calm reverence.


End file.
